


Brother Dear

by IdrisSmith



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mycroft's POV, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisSmith/pseuds/IdrisSmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft had a conversation with the woman who changed everything. And he was glad to have known her and to have her part of his inner circle of friends and family. And yes, he had a heart after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother Dear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> I feel like I need to write a friendship fiction between Mycroft and Molly. I don't even know why. And this is for Waltzy (afteriwake) who had not been feeling her best. I hope things will get better for you, Waltzy.

Mycroft Holmes was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. He had seen many things in his life, many failings and many disappointments to do so. No, Mycroft Holmes was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but, that never meat he didn’t have one. He was human after all; of course his had a heart. They beat within his ribcage underneath his pale skin. Literal heart, he had one of those, of course. But, if one was to speak metaphorically, yes, Mycroft Holmes had one of those as well.

Still, he was the cold one; he one who would make snarky remarks and kept people at an arm’s length. No, caring was not an advantage. He kept telling himself that very sentence, though, never believing in it himself. He cared, more than he would like to admit. Care more than he should and more than he could afford to. Yet, no one could really see that fact until he met her.

“You care for him, don’t you?” She had asked him with a small smile, reading him like he was an open book.

He didn’t like. Still, at the same time, relieved that someone saw what he was hiding underneath layers of clothing and excuses. He did care. And he was not surprised that person would be her. She was certainly an intelligent woman, someone to admire for her ability to see through things even he could miss.

“It’s a sense of duty and nothing else,” He had coldly replied back.

She smirked, not believing him for a second. And he realized that he liked her. Not in the romantic sort of way, he just liked her. This woman he had spent quite a resource to keep safe, but never quite met in person until three days ago, he really liked her. And he liked that she could see not only through him, but, through his own brother’s insecurities and ran with it.

“Keep telling yourself that Mycroft,” She laughed, sipping her tea, “We both know you’re lying,”

She was at ease with herself. He was expecting someone timid. Someone he could easily manipulated, not her. But, he was glad it was her. She had grown over the year; he remembered the reports on her he used to receive. She had turned into quite a remarkable woman, not that she was not one to begin with.

“I’m not going to break his heart, Mycroft,” She said, placing the teacup back on the saucer, “I think it is me that is in for heartbreak,”

He smiled a genuine smile, one he rarely shown or shared with anyone. Yet, it was easy with her; he understood his brother’s affection of her immediately. Only, he did not share the same kind of sentiments as his brother. His, well, his was more of a brotherly sort of way. She was like a sister he didn’t mind having, or even go as far as glad to have.

“You and I know both know that’s not true,” He replied, leaning into his chair.

A smile. A beat of silence and mimicked him and leaned back into her own chair.

“Do we?” A challenge fell from her mouth.

Sherlock was right, Mycroft begrudgingly thought, she was a force to be reckoned with. If only he had taken the minute to stop by and see her, and thank her all those years ago. He used to think the woman was a fool for having such level of affection towards Sherlock. It was useless; her caring for Sherlock was a disadvantage on her part. He was glad to be proven wrong.

“If you repeat this, I will deny it, but…” Mycroft conceded, leaning forward again and she followed suit, “You’re the best thing that had ever happened to him. You’re the reason he is still breathing,”

He clocked her hitched breath. She was not expecting him to be so blunt. So honest. He was, not because he wanted to, it was because she deserved to hear it and he had to tell her the truth.

“Thank you,” She said, so very sincere that he was at lost for words, “I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough for him,”

He smiled, shaking his head, realizing how similar his brother at the woman sitting before him was. Neither of them believed they were good enough for the other. They couldn’t have been more wrong, they were exactly what the other needed and even he cannot argue with the obviousness of the situation.

“I don’t believe that would ever be the case, Molly,” He said, using her first name for the first time.

She was shocked, he could tell. She had been trying to get him to address her as such for months. And he, in turn, had dropped the use of even her title and last name in the conversation for the better part of a month. She was always; my brother’s girlfriend, that was until three days ago. Admittedly, he was only referring to her as such to spite Sherlock who hated the labels.

“No?” She asked, her tone was thick with emotion.

And he was surprised he was rather good with emotion he so loath and avoid for the better part of his life. He realized immediately, it was just him putting up a wall and he need not with Molly. She was as genuine as they come and he was glad if he ever had the chance to call her his sister.

“I think it is Sherlock that was and never will be good enough for you,” He replied, a soft smile graced his lips,

No, Sherlock certainly didn’t. He didn’t anything anyone short of perfect would be good enough for Molly Hooper. She was too kind, too innocent and too sweet for the consulting detective. However, he knew that it was Sherlock for her and no one else could ever be right for Sherlock.

A soft, warm look graced her feature. 

“Believe it or not, it is quite easy to love Sherlock,” She said with a chuckle, smoothing her summer dress as she did so. 

Lovely. Yes, Mycroft would go as far as using the word lovely to describe her and he would not be wrong. It was the one term people had kept repeating about her. She was a lovely woman, understanding and caring.

“I’m glad,” He stated, “I’m glad it is you who love him and you who he fell for,” 

It was the first time he had said it and glad he got to say the words. There were many firsts in their lives since she was part of it – more accurately, since Sherlock got his head out of his arse and ask the woman out properly. Quiet and civil family dinners, laughter, silly jokes and sitting through a long play without him wanting to bolt because she had a murderous look on her and he didn’t want to tempt fate. Even Sherlock had found that amusing, a fact which he did not appreciate.

“Thank you,” She told him, reaching out to take his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t believe he had ever felt grateful in his life until that moment. Until that very moment he had the chance to sit down with the love of his brother’s life and understand that her caring for his idiotic brother was probably the only thing that saved him from time to time, the only thing that saved Sherlock from himself.

“Unhand my fiancée, Mycroft,” Sherlock’s playful tone disrupted the comfortable silence between the two adults. Clearly he had returned from a case that had taken him away for the better part of the day. 

Molly turned, beaming as she found the consulting detective walking towards them. Mycroft was scowling, hiding his true pleasure of seeing how much the two people before him care for each other. Perhaps, perhaps Sherlock stood a chance after all. Perhaps his little brother would get to grow old and wrinkled next to someone he treasured most. 

“You were gone long,” Molly said, getting up from where she was sitting, effectively letting go of her soft hold on Mycroft’s hand.

Mycroft didn’t feel sorry to lose the touch of her hand as he saw how his brother engulfed the woman into a warm embrace. But, he suddenly felt as if he was intruding and silently rose from his seat to give the pair some space. It was not awkward; it was just as it should.

He sneaked away as quietly as possibly, though it was not hard to achieve and as he walked back into the cottage, the house where his parents had and still live in, he spotted the two elderly grinning from the window overlooking the garden. He turned, finding Sherlock and Molly having a hushed conversation and sneaking kisses in between words. He didn’t believe he would stop worrying for his brother, but, he knew, at least he would have company for tea when he did.


End file.
